


Trial Marriage

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: 18th Century, Angsty Schmoop, Dubious Consent, Harlequin, Legal Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 21:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1617278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd met at a society dinner party, an elegant evening that ended in a whirlwind of passion. It was a night of love that Jensen would never forget. Now, Jared Padalecki was on trial; a trial could destroy his reputation, if not his career. He'd turned to Jensen Ackles as a lover, but could he count on him for his defense?</p><p>Despite his love for Jared, Jensen was unsure of his defendant on the stand; Jared's defense was dangerously uncertain. The only way to save him from his accusers was for Jensen to marry him. He had to wed the man he'd once loved passionately…the man who now despised him, whose only feeling towards Jensen seemed to be that of disdain. If only Jensen could quell his own desire; could rid himself of the love that still burned within him . . . a love that put them all in danger!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_meanttobe 2014 on Livejournal.
> 
> Original Harlequin Prompt: 73. Wife on Demand
> 
> They'd come together in a whirlwind of passion, with little time for words of love. Now Jude Daniels was on trial for a crime that could destroy his career. He'd relied on Hope Thompson as a lover, but could he count on her for his defense?
> 
> Despite her love for him, Hope momentarily doubted Jude on the stand, making his future dangerously uncertain. Now there was only one way to save him from his sentence. She had to marry him. She had to pretend devotion to the man she'd once loved passionately…the man who now despised her. The man who'd sworn to hate her, no matter how much he still desired her….

Back to [Masterpost]()

I knew the evening was not going to go well as soon as Jared entered with an angry swirl of his cloak. I greeted him cordially, asking him what entree he would prefer for dinner. An innocuous question, certainly, yet he practically snarled at me as he swept past me, every line of his handsome face radiating displeasure. 

"Is it too much to ask to have a meal actually prepared ahead of time?" He huffed with annoyance as he slung his wool cloak over his arm. "It doesn't matter anyway--I shall be dining elsewhere!" He fussed with his gloves, his ill temper radiating from him like a furnace. He continued in a disgusted tone, "God knows I can't stand to be here, staring at your insipid face. Do go out, Jensen, and see about getting yourself a life. I go now to mine--don't bother to wait up for me!" With a final, scornful glare, he pulled the heavy front door open and departed, letting it slam shut behind him.

I stood in the foyer, stunned at the extremity of his pique. I had in fact already prepared a couple of dishes; I simply wanted to ask which he preferred before serving our supper. Now, it was all for naught. Instead, it was another evening with a furious Jared storming from our house, undoubtedly to spend his time gaming with his foppish, drunkard friends, or slaking the physical desires he refrained from indulging in with me.

Me, his legally wedded spouse. His husband.

Breathless from frustration and my own anger, I spun and smacked my hand against the stair railing, that beautiful, wrought iron confection of swirls and leaves that adorned the staircase to the second floor. Like so many things in Jared's townhouse, it was graceful and lovely . . . yet the beauty was empty. Jared's taste was exquisite, but his heart was cold and hard, and my life as his husband in this gilded cage was hollow.

My jaw tightened, and my teeth ground together as my fists clenched. It wasn't fair. _He_ wasn't fair. We were in this unhappy situation together, had made the tactical decision to wed _together_ ; yet now I was the one bearing the burden of his wrath, and for no reason that I could ascertain. Once, there had been . . . not true love necessarily, but at least there had been affection and desire. Now, there was nothing but anger and tension, cutting words and coldness, and, God damn it, I had had enough. This was going to change--or else it was going to end.

I didn't care which.

"Jensen! Jensen, you must come meet my cousin!" my dear friend Sandra McCoy called to me. Her voice trilled over the string quartet that was currently playing a minuet. We were both attending a dinner and dance soiree, filled with any number of fashionable folk enjoying the London season. She came toward me in an energetic bustling of spring green silk skirts, towing a tall young man behind her. "He's just come to town to conduct some business, and he's very presentable, quite the young buck! I'm sure all the young ladies will be fluttering around him in no time! Here we are--Jensen, please bid welcome to Jared Padalecki. The Padaleckis are a branch of my mother's family, on her mother's side. Jared, this is my dear friend, Jensen Ackles--his aunt is excellent friends with my mama. We go riding together all the time." Sandra's brown eyes twinkled, and her dark curls danced as she smiled merrily at us both, connecting us by placing a delicate hand first on his arm, then on mine.

Our introduction was perfectly ordinary, yet as soon as my eyes fell on him, an unaccustomed wash of heat spread throughout my body. Jared was very tall, well over six foot, and extremely muscular, as could easily be ascertained underneath his tight, fashionable clothing. His fawn breeches were practically painted on, revealing the strong muscles in his thighs, and the breadth of his shoulders in his deep burgundy cutaway jacket clearly was not due to extra padding, as so many gentlemen of the ton used. He had a ready smile, insouciant and playful, with incredible, deep dimples carved on either side. His eyes were an odd mix of color, being blue, green, and brown swirled altogether, and his elegant brows made a graceful arch over them, giving him a slightly haughty air. The combination of power, elegance, irreverence, and masculine beauty made for an enormously alluring package, and I could not deny my attraction to him, although I strove to mask it.

We turned out to be partnered at dinner, and, although he had many comments to offer all the guests, I did have some opportunity to converse solely with him. I confess, I had quite a large infatuation growing, not excluding the bulge in my breeches, and to find that he was amusing and witty raised my infatuation to outright idolization. Happily, he seemed to find me attractive as well; he commented a number of times on my green eyes, my fine physique (in which I do take some pride), and especially on the delicate features of my face. In particular, he seemed fascinated by my mouth, which I confess is indeed rather lush; my lips are unusually plump for a man. I was not above using these features to my advantage, and by the time the final ice was served, we had agreed to go out afterward for a brandy.

We retired to my townhouse for the brandy. We scarcely were halfway through our snifters when he pulled me to his broad chest and set his lips over mine. His tongue plunged in and began to tease me as his hands roved over my chest. He growled as my shirt impeded him, and I began to unbutton it, eager to feel his hands directly upon me, but his impatience overruled that and he tore the very buttons off me, leaving my shirt gaping. God, the heat of his hands burned me as they moved over my body, massaging my chest, tweaking and pinching my nipples, already peaked in response to his urgent kisses. He lowered his head to those hard buds, laving them one moment, nipping at them the next. Little shocks ran straight to my cock, and I could feel it hardening quickly in my breeches. 

I was already breathing heavily from his assault, and I managed to gasp out, "Upstairs!" He pulled his mouth off my aching nipples, kissed me voraciously again, and then we fled up the stairs to my bedroom. By the time we were there, his jacket and shirt had been lost and we were both tearing at our breeches, swearing as we peeled them off. I fell onto the bed and turned to look at him.

Jared was built like a god--any Greek deity would have been honored to wear that beautiful body. His nudity revealed a long, graceful neck and wide, incredibly well-muscled shoulders. Large, firm pectorals, dusted with dark hair and crowned with tiny brown nipples, gave way to a belly that was ridged and lean, with hip grooves that my tongue longed to trace. His prick was well and away the most generous one I had ever seen, and it rose proudly from the nest of dark hair at his groin. The splendor of that long, fat prick was well-supported by large, heavy balls that begged to be rolled and squeezed, and I vowed to myself I would accede to that plea.

His face seemed to reflect every bit as much appreciation of my body as I had for his, and I thanked myself silently for the regular bouts of boxing at my local gentleman’s club, the frequent horse rides, and the arduous calisthenics by which I kept in shape. I was not as muscular as Jared, but I was well-defined and fit, and my own cock had often received glowing comments for its attributes. I felt it jerking as I studied Jared, and the wetness on my belly told me it was drooling in as much anticipation as I myself felt. The man was positively mouthwatering.

The rest of the night does not bear detailing, although every incredible moment of it is etched into my memory. Suffice it to say that I enjoyed a sexual ecstasy and fulfillment beyond anything I'd ever experienced before. We pleasured ourselves with our hungry mouths, our urgent hands, our straining cocks. We left no inch of our bodies untasted. He fucked me like a veritable bull--his size, his power, his stamina were all amazing. I thought at one point I would lose my mind; that my mental capacity was so overwhelmed by the passion we were sharing, it would simply cease to function. Our sweat mingled, our seed pooled and spurted over our bodies as we writhed and spasmed and clutched each other in orgiastic delight.

I fell asleep as the dawn broke, the first rays of soft, pink light threading their way through the curtains of my bedchamber. Jared lay next to me, that splendid body just as beautiful at rest, those glorious muscles lax. His cock, utterly spent, lay softly on his thigh as he sprawled atop my bed. I pulled the blanket up with my last conscious thought, and then let the blackness of sleep take me.

I slept long. It was no wonder after the wild and uninhibited night Jared and I had shared. I stretched, feeling the delightful soreness that comes after strenuous and satisfying sex, and turned to look at Jared.

He was gone.

I shot up, sitting up amidst the rumpled, stained sheets. He was not in the bed.

He was not in the room.

I clutched a sheet about my person and ran out to the staircase, calling his name.

There was no answer.

Jared was gone.

I didn't see Jared again. I heard through the grapevine of mutual acquaintances that he left town the next day, doing extensive traveling on business. I steeled myself to forget him, but of course, I never did. How could I forget a night that blazed like a comet in my recollections? A fantastic night, replete with pleasures that I never expected to experience again. A night spent staring into the beautiful, multi-colored eyes of Jared Padalecki as our bodies joined together again and again; a string of magical hours during which we claimed every possible ecstasy. Even my dear Sandra never mentioned his name again around me; she had asked about our post-soiree nightcap a few days later, and I froze with what had to be an alarming rictus of dismay on my face. She momentarily looked both sad and horrified, and never brought him up again.

My career became my driving force after that. I worked non-stop, taking case after case, becoming quite the rising star as a lawyer, specializing in defense work. I eventually left the offices I was affiliated with in order to open my own small practice, and was fortunate enough to have it prosper.

And so the next few years passed--a great deal of work; a small, convivial group of friends; the odd discreet date; the occasional squiring of a young lady to a social event to deflect curiosity about my bachelorhood. There was nothing that led to any real bond or intimacy of any kind; I did not seek such intimacy out, being unwilling to risk my dignity or my self-esteem again. In my room, I had a very beautiful box of inlaid wood with a false bottom that concealed a small, select assortment of implements for enhancing sexual enjoyment. I would spend the day at the courthouse or my office, perhaps join some friends for dinner, then return home where I might take my time pleasuring myself, followed by a night of peaceful slumber. It was a good life. I was successful, fulfilled, and reasonably content.

Except . . . I missed Jared. Missed his handsome face, his strong body, his wit, his passion. Missed the smell and feel of him, his wide smile with those breathtaking dimples, the searing climaxes we shared, the way his arms had encircled me in sleep. Missed having the chance to learn more about him, find his hidden qualities, only for me to know about.

How does one accept the loss of something--someone--so exceptional? Even after only the one night, he had affected me as no other man before, or since. I was ruined for other men.

I locked the ache away as much as possible, raising my head up and setting my jaw every day as I strode out the door. Only in those lonely moments in the middle of the night did I allow myself to truly acknowledge how much I wished to meet again with Jared, experience those moments with him again. To maybe find out . . . if we could have had more, become more.

My calm, orderly world blew up one day when I walked into the courtroom and saw Jared sitting at the defendant's table. Christopher Kane, a fellow attorney, had asked me to cover for a case he was presenting at court that morning. It was supposed to simply be a matter of getting a postponement until Chris could resume his role in it, so I accepted; Chris was a good friend who'd helped me out in the past, and I socialized with him regularly, so I was happy to grant the favor.

And now, there was Jared Padalecki sitting in front of me, clad in an exquisitely cut, dark green cutaway jacket with a silver gilt brocade waistcoat and a froth of fine lace at his throat. The jacket's deep color brought out the green in his multi-hued eyes, and the lace only made his skin look even creamier than I remembered. He looked absolutely delicious. His eyes, however, were positively frosty as they regarded me, and his expression was anything but pleased.

"Where's Mr. Kane? He's supposed to be representing me today." Jared sounded as cool and aloof as he looked. My heart sank at dealing with such an antagonistic client, especially one who embodied so much emotional baggage for me.

"He had a family emergency and called me in. We've worked together before, and he felt I was the best man to step in on this. We'll just be asking for a postponement for today. Will my presence create a problem?" I assumed my most professional demeanor in my speech and stance, practically daring him to disagree. I was absurdly grateful I'd chosen to wear my new navy coat with black breeches and only the slightest frill of lace on the snowy shirtfront. I felt it conveyed the utmost in professionalism.

The corners of his mouth turned down in a tiny sneer. 

"Very well. It seems I have no other choice. Proceed." He gave a wave of his hand, and then ignored me as I pulled my chair out and sat down.

It was a socially motivated case, rather than strictly a matter of business. Jared was being sued for breach of promise; he'd supposedly contracted to wed a young society lady, and now two years had passed with no wedding. She was apparently rather feisty and had no qualms about dragging someone as rich as Jared Padalecki into civil court, claiming damages to her reputation as a result of the long engagement and no wedding, as well as the stalling of any possible merger of family monies. It would cause Jared no small amount of social embarrassment for her pursuit of this legal action--houses high in the social hierarchy had been brought down before over matters like this. When one's status and perceived rank are the currency of society, the loss of such things can indeed be a crisis. I was curious to see who this bold young lady was, despite the potential for my own distress and jealousy over her relationship with Jared.

She strode boldly into the courtroom, her lawyers trailing behind her. She was petite, clearly a good foot shorter than Jared himself, with a head of lush, dark curls that spilled over her shoulders. Her eyes were dark with high, arched brows, and her mouth was a wide, red gash. Her nose was a trifle too large for actual beauty, but she was very striking, and knew how to play that up. She wore a dark purple dress that showed off her pale, creamy skin; it had a little fitted jacket that was molded to her slight bosom and a full skirt with a modest bustle that accentuated her tiny waist. She carried a small silver mesh reticule and a lace handkerchief tucked into one sleeve. Her hat was a stylish concoction of purple velvet, lavender feathers, and silver trimmings. Clearly it was not Jared's money she was gunning for.

I looked at Jared, who was studiously ignoring his former fiancee's entrance. I turned back to the prosecutorial party and confirmed to myself that this was indeed that princess of society, Genevieve Cortese. I was going to be defending Jared Padalecki against the formidable Cortese family. 

The Cortese family was rich, powerful, and reputed to be involved in several shady businesses and activities in the city. They also kept up the highest profile in the society pages. I realized I'd seen Genevieve before at the larger social events, perhaps even at the racetrack, although she had not been in the company of Jared. This simple breach of promise case was taking on a much darker cast.

Our request for a postponement was summarily denied. The offense claimed there had already been untoward delay, and would brook no more. Judge Beaver, a grizzled man with an impeccable reputation, agreed with them, and did not look favorably upon me at all. He also ruled that as Christopher Kane had missed that day of court, he was no longer the lead lawyer on this case - it would now be me. Hearing this, Jared turned and glowered fiercely at me.

I heartily rued agreeing to cover for Chris.

Concern that this trial might already be leaning to one side crept into my mind, but I had to ignore it and proceed to the best of my ability. The judge adjourned further court proceedings until after lunch, so I scrambled to get Chris' files and quickly scan them during the couple of hours left of the morning.

Jared disappeared. I thought darkly to myself that I should expect no less--the tiger does not change his stripes.

The trial went on for some days. Much to my dismay, Jared was truly not in a good position. Genevieve had several letters, small gifts, and numerous witnesses that attested to Jared's devotion, attentiveness, and stated intentions. If Jared had doubts about their union, it was only known to Jared; he had not confided such either in friends or family, and apparently never conveyed anything less than complete sincerity to his fiancée. I found myself very concerned about how to shake the seeming solidity of Miss Cortese's case.

In private, I also found myself brooding over Jared's affections towards Miss Cortese. She had a sharp wit, which she readily displayed in the courtroom, and certainly a smoky kind of attractiveness. She dripped money, although Jared was quite wealthy himself. I could not help wondering how she was . . . in bed. Images of her small form riding his massive one, her thighs straddling his manhood, floated through my mind's eye in the early morning hours. Did she excite him? Did he prefer her small bosom and soft loins to, say, the rigid tool and firm chest of a man? I pictured his mouth kissing her slender neck, his large hands encompassing her small, ripe breasts, envisioned her pink thighs parting as he plunged --

"No!" I yelled, sitting upright in my bed. I buried my face in my hands, trying hard to hold back hot tears of desire and resentment. I was an attorney, for God's sake, I was a _professional._ I was not going to moon over my client--a client who had already used me and cast me aside. Clearly I needed to find some relief, which for now would be a cold bath.

Unless . . . I fell back against my pillows, my hand sliding down my belly to the erection that was demanding my attention. I could not resist wrapping my fingers around my prick, slowly squeezing and sliding up and down as I remembered the magnificence that was Jared's body. My cock was never so hard as when I envisioned his well-defined chest, flat belly with the most seductive trail of dark hair on it, and mile-long legs. I bemoaned my weakness of character, but could not stop stroking myself vigorously. Fluid began leaking from the tip of my member, and I smeared it around my shaft to facilitate my movements.

It was the vibrant recollection of Jared's generously sized cock entering me that tipped me over the edge of excitement, and I found my belly, balls, and hand covered in the milky exudation that pulsed forth. I was positively trembling with the intensity of my climax. I gently squeezed the last few drops of my seed from my softening prick and wiped myself off with a corner of the nightshirt I'd skipped donning. Closing my eyes, I knew I'd sleep well, being as relaxed and pleasured as I felt now. Lurking underneath that contentment was the knowledge that I was treading ever farther on emotionally dangerous ground; that my continued fantasizing about Jared was ultimately going to bring me fresh pain.

The trial continued to go poorly for the defense, which is to say, us. I had to have a serious conference with Jared, as he'd mostly managed to elude me so far. Genevieve made such an appealing picture of the poor, betrayed fiancée with her big eyes and beautiful outfits, her pretty little hats sitting jauntily on that rich mass of dark hair. She had saved every scrap of paper, every gift no matter how insignificant, from Jared, and we sat watching as they were all duly itemized, numbered and entered into evidence. Evidence of Jared's intent to wed her.

Jared--Jared had nothing beyond his declaration that he had never intended for a marriage to occur. I was a bit surprised, as his acumen was considerable, and yet in this case, he seemed completely unguarded. I could only infer that he never thought it would get to this point. It was easy to read the frustration, the anger, growing daily on his face as we watched Genevieve's case get stronger and stronger, to the point where she'd testified the day before that she knew every single thing about Jared and his person that there was to know.

"Jared, I'm afraid I don't know what to suggest," I said. "Frankly, they have such a preponderance of material and statements, and we have none. I don't see how we are to refute her claim."

Jared swore as he paced around my office. "This is unthinkable! She's not going to break me, and she's not going to force me to marry her either! We _must_ stop this somehow." His heavy shoulders rippled as he moved like a caged lion. "Ackles, you must think of something!" He turned to face me, and my heart jumped as I confronted that handsome face, all high cheekbones and regal planes. His eyes--always an odd mix of blue, brown, and green--were dark with anger.

An idea suddenly popped into my head. A ridiculous idea, to be sure, but . . . maybe not? In the absence of any rational plan, ridiculous begins to look damn good.

"Jared, Genevieve testified yesterday about her depth of knowledge about you. I believe she meant _intimate_ knowledge as well, as she mentioned your person." I hesitated, unsure of treading on such personal ground. "She claimed there is no aspect of your life that is unknown to her, as part of your relationship with her. Is that, in fact, true?"

Jared stood stock still, his stiff back conveying the distaste for this line of questioning. He huffed before turning to face me, his eyes glittering angrily.

"I can't believe I must actually answer such a personal question, but I will count myself lucky I'm not answering it in open court. Yet." He ran a hand through his hair, disrupting the long, carefully brushed strands and causing them to fall around his face quite temptingly. "No, Jensen. No, I have not, nor ever was, physically intimate with Genevieve. She often pushed for that, made numerous attempts to seduce me, but I never yielded."

He strode over to me in a couple of quick steps, stopping only a few inches away. "As it happens, Jensen, my tastes do not lie that way . . . as you may remember." And a moment later, he was gone from my chamber.

I had to sink down onto a chair--the impact of his physical proximity coupled with the intensity of his words and the memories they triggered quite . . . unnerved me.

We played my surprise card the very next day. Genevieve made a statement about how she knew every single detail about Jared, preening with self-satisfaction and triumph as she sat in the witness stand. Jared glared at her, and I smiled to myself to see how she grew nervous under that angry stare.

It was my turn to question her, and I approached her with a smile.

"Now, Lady Cortese, you just said how you are familiar with every detail of Lord Padalecki, is this true?"

She nodded, the feathers in her toque wagging.

"I mean no disrespect, Lady Cortese, but does this extreme familiarity include . . . physically? As in, are you familiar with the _physical_ details of Lord Padalecki's person?"

She gaped at me, clearly surprised by the question. She started fussing with her sleeve, the lace at her throat, as she searched for an answer to satisfy me.

"Well, I . . . I could never make such a statement in court, sir, I am appalled that you should ask it! I _am_ a lady!" Dredging up a facade of affront, she looked down her nose at me.

I called for some earlier evidences and statements to shore up my supposition. After the third one, the judge waved away the rest. He called both myself and the prosecution up to his bench and instructed Lady Cortese to answer the question just to us, as she had given us every indication regarding the personal nature of her knowledge.

Genevieve looked furious upon this ruling, but had to abide by the judge's statement. 

"I . . . yes. Yes, I am familiar with the physical details of Jared Padalecki, as he is my fiancé."

I turned to look at Jared, who was quite thunderously angry. We hadn't expected her to bluff on this, but clearly she was not going to go down without a fight.

My plan was to call her bluff.

"Lady Cortese, could you please, therefore, identify the unique characteristic on a personal part of Mr. Padalecki's anatomy?" I smiled at her before continuing, "I'll make it easy for you and specify where. On Mr. Padalecki's . . . manhood. Seeing, of course, that you two are so . . . intimate and all." 

I stepped back to the defense table and waited, ignoring Jared's silent fuming.

Judge Beaver spoke up. "Lady Cortese, we are waiting."

She spluttered before snarling, "This is ridiculous! I should not have to testify to this!"

"Young lady, you opened the door to this line of questioning by your own statements. Please answer immediately!" The judge barked at her.

"Fine! Mr. Padalecki has a --a mole at the base of his--his--his organ. So _there!_ " Her eyes snapped as she silently dared me to challenge her.

I was so annoyed by this chit that I took the bait.

"Wrong! You are _wrong_ , Miss Cortese! There is no mole at the base--there's a cluster of three tiny moles halfway up the shaft!" I barked triumphantly. They hadn't had any physical contact after all! It was absurd how much pleasure it gave me to know that she was ignorant of his body. "You are not the expert on Mr. Padalecki that you claim to be! If you are unaware of a characteristic like that, what else are you unaware of? What else do you not know about your purported fiancé? Perhaps--his true intentions toward you, such as not planning to marry you?" I felt triumphant!

Then I realized how quiet the courtroom was.

Everyone was staring at me - the judge, Genevieve, the opposing counsel. And Jared. He was standing at the defense table, a look of fury across his face, his fists clenched by his side.

The judge broke the silence. "Errm, Mr. Padalecki . . . I'd ask who is correct, Lady Cortese or Mr. Ackles, but neither can be considered an unbiased witness." He cleared his throat and sighed. "Please accompany me to my chambers, and I will speedily resolve this . . . embarrassing issue. Court is recessed, five minutes."

Everyone sat down except for Jared and Judge Beaver, who departed the room together. Jared looked as though he were ready to rip someone apart with his teeth.

I sank down in my chair in mortification. My jealousy and resentment towards Genevieve had clearly outstripped my professionalism. Genevieve was shooting daggers at me with her eyes, and everyone else was round-eyed with the juicy information I'd unleashed. I wanted to crawl under the table, but instead I gazed steadfastly at my notes, yet again wishing violently that I'd turned Chris down when he asked me to sub for this case.

Within five minutes, Jared and Judge Beaver returned. Jared's face was utterly impassive--he could have been made of stone. Beaver looked like he'd swallowed a lemon . . . whole. The judge sat back on his bench and addressed the court.

"I have resolved the conflicting claims of Lady Cortese and Mr. Ackles. Mr. Ackles was correct. You were incorrect, Lady Cortese." Judge Beaver shook his head tiredly. "I am never discussing this again. Mr. Ackles, you may now proceed."

His words wrung gasps from the opposing table and the sundry other observers that were in the courtroom. Jared continued his impression of a statue, and I clenched my teeth to ignore everything and everyone around me.

Apparently the recklessness of my earlier ploy was still burning inside me. If the whole "unique mark" gaffe hadn't been ridiculous enough, the next words out of my mouth were even more so. I stood up and addressed the judge.

"Despite the copious amount of evidence that Miss Cortese's lawyers have presented, I now put forward that I have a prior claim to Mr. Padalecki. The very personal and true aspects of my statement bear witness to the nature and depth of the relationship that Mr. Padalecki and I have shared. This relationship is deeper than anything he has enjoyed with Miss Cortese, as her proofs of gifts and hearsay are all of a very shallow and social nature, rather than the deep emotional and physical bond of lovers. Our bond also predates her claim, as it started a full two years ago; indeed, it began the very first time Jared Padalecki came to town. Her putative bid to wed Mr. Padalecki is negated by our prior claim, as he was never truly free to entertain her bid for marriage in the first place."

More gasps from all directions. I feared to turn and look at Jared, not knowing whether the glee of losing Genevieve Cortese would outweigh his anger at my stratagem. Instead, I looked at Judge Beaver.

He looked back sternly at me, mouth pursed over his beard, eyebrows frowning over his light blue eyes. He cocked one eyebrow at me, as if to ask, you know what you're doing, boy? I gave a tiny nod, although my mouth shook a little as I valiantly smiled at him.

"Well, then. I've had some _unusual_ moments in my courtroom before, but I think this beats 'em all." Judge Beaver sounded as nonplussed as anyone in the room. "Be that as it may, I'm ruling that Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki's bond and relationship predates his liaison with Miss Cortese, and is of a more serious and intimate nature than the one with the young lady. Mr. Padalecki is therefore released from all claims from Miss Cortese, and is free to resume, and presumably resolve, his relationship with Mr. Ackles."

The judge's hammer fell with a decisive rap.

"I hope you two young men will be very happy together. And now, we're adjourned. Everyone get the hell out of here."

I barely turned back to Jared before the Cortese lawyer was at our table.

"You think you're getting away with this, Ackles? Embarrassing Lady Cortese in court like this? You bastard! All I can say is, you two better make sure your story's straight and your vows pledged before the week has passed, or you'll be ruing the day this ever happened!" With a scathing look to each of us, he flounced out of the room. Genevieve herself was already gone.

Finally I looked at Jared. His face looked like the finest marble - exquisite and cold. His eyes looked like jasper chips as they regarded me.

" _What_ was that? Are you insinuating that our single night of pleasure is grounds for _marriage?_ "

I forced myself to keep looking him in the eyes.

"It was . . . . an inspiration. And one that worked, I might add." I raised my chin defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest. "I didn't hear you objecting."

He finally cut his eyes away, snorting indignantly. 

"Fine. I concede that it worked. I must point out, however, that the Corteses will not rest until we are married in actual fact." He looked at me with a faint sneer. "Well, Jensen? Ready to make fiction into fact, and us into honest men?"

"Yes, of course," I said as smoothly as I could. "As a matter of fact, we could ask Judge Beaver to perform the vows as soon as possible. To satisfy the Corteses, of course."

"Yes, of course," Jared said drily. "I suppose it's only fitting that he does it, now that he has seen my prick in all its glory. Thanks for that, by the way. I always enjoy dropping my breeches to display the goods at a moment's notice." The sneer grew more pronounced. "Don't think I'll forget this, Jensen. _Any_ of this--good and otherwise."

We repaired to Judge Beaver's private chamber and rapped on the door. His bellow of "Come in" received, we entered and found ourselves in a most pleasant and comfortable room with large, well-upholstered chairs, an amply stocked sideboard, and a small fire burning merrily.

Judge Beaver already had a tumbler in one hand and a cigar in the other as he sat cozily in a chair next to the fire.

"Well?" His expression was not pleased.

I glanced at Jared, who ignored me. I sighed--I understood his unhappiness, but I did consider myself a better spousal choice than Lady Cortese, starting with the fact I was of the correct gender.

I spoke up, after waiting a moment for Jared. "We'd like to ask you to marry us . . . as soon as possible."

Beaver studied me, then gave Jared a long look.

"You up for this too?" he asked Jared.

Jared nodded once, his jaw muscles working, his posture ramrod stiff.

Beaver let out a gusty sigh.

"Well, all right then, you idjits. Let's tie the knot right here and now, and get you started on your path to marital bliss."

He stood up and donned his robe. Jared and I stood together in front of him, not touching. Beaver read the lines, Jared and I each said our vow, and it was done. Jared was safe from the Corteses, and I--I had the titular role of being his spouse.

We were married.

 

We left Beaver's chambers, walking toward the entrance of the courthouse. I opened my mouth to offer dinner together, that we might figure out where we were going from here, but Jared shook out his cloak, preparing to don it and depart.

"Jared, I--should we not discuss our new arrangement? Perhaps some dinner--"

He turned to me, face suffused with anger.

"No, Jensen, I do not care to dine with you tonight. I'm going to my rooms and contemplate how I find myself in this situation in the first place." He held up a hand. "Yes, yes, I know how. I just--God! This is insane! I need to--to absorb what the hell happened here. While I am pleased to be free of the Corteses after months of trying to break their grip on me, I didn't--" He shook his head, mouth downturned and bitter. "Understand me, Jensen. I have no intention of living with you as a married couple. Not now, not ever."

He walked to the door, and I couldn't help thinking what a rakish figure he cut. That chestnut hair curling over the coat collar, the sculpted calves swelling in those tight stockings . . .

"Good God, Jensen. Get a handkerchief and wipe the drool from your mouth. I was about to ask you why you are doing this--I know why I am, to get the damn Corteses off my back --but I think you just answered that for me." He came back to me, standing so close to me I could feel the breath from his lips as he spoke, could see the tiny, separate slivers of color in his eyes. His voice was low and seductive.

"Look at me well, Jensen. Look very well. Observe me. Smell me, the scent of my skin so close to yours. _Touch_ me--the rich fabric of my coat, the soft silk of my shirt as it lays over the firmness of my chest. Note these things well, my dear husband, for this moment is the last one you will get to experience _any_ of this." He curled his lip as he spun on a heel and strode out of the courtroom.

I sank into a chair. The enormity of what I had done was truly sinking in. Yes, I had freed Jared of the Cortese clutches, but . . . at what cost? His enmity, rather than his gratitude? The total destruction of any friendship with him?

Was I crazy? Why had I ever agreed to this?

I dropped my head into my hands. I knew the answer.

It was as Jared had said. I desired him. I wanted him in every way possible. An incredible opportunity had suddenly presented itself, a veritable _deus ex machina_ , and I had heedlessly seized it, just so I could be bound to him. And now we were together, we were _wed_ \--

And he had utterly rejected me.

A few days later, I moved in with him in order to preserve appearances. The Corteses would never believe our marriage was real if we lived apart. Jared decreed I should be the one to move, as his house was larger and more luxurious than mine. As always, I bent to his will in hopes that he would unbend to mine. So I packed up all of my belongings and moved into a lovely room he'd designated for my use. . . at the other end of the house, where subsequently I rarely saw him.

Then had come the days, the weeks, of his unrelenting antagonism. He constantly departed from our home to conduct business as well as gamble, drink, make merry with friends unknown to me. He probably sought the company of whores--he certainly never touched me. I was left alone in rooms that now seemed cold and empty; even my bed seemed colder now . . . a bed he never slept in as my husband.

I thought I could do it. I thought I could thaw him out, remind him of the magic we had so briefly shared. That we could build something anew between us.

I thought wrong.

After Jared had stormed out that evening, I went into the kitchen and picked at some food. The roast chicken was moist and well-seasoned, the vegetables fresh and succulent, yet it all tasted like sawdust. I drank some wine as my thoughts ran in a constant circle, replaying the trial to our impromptu wedding to Jared's demeanor of constant ire. The chance I thought we might have, had hoped to have, for reconnecting had instead soured horribly, and my days--and nights--were filled with loneliness and dismay.

Tonight, I had had enough. I felt stifled in this lifeless house, its emptiness wrapping around me like the bindings of a mummy, so I grabbed my cloak and hastened outside. The night was quite cool at that late hour, and I was glad of the warmth my heavy cloak gave me. I walked and walked, enjoying the exercise, relishing the fresh air that helped clear my head as well as the darkness that hid my unhappy face from the world. 

Strong hands abruptly grabbed me from behind, halting me and throwing me into the near-by wall. The impact jarred me to my very bones, preventing me from any quick response. I staggered upright, only to receive a solid punch to my jaw that made my head ring. I swung blindly and connected with a solid form that grunted in reaction. I threw more punches in that direction, but a second set of arms seized me from behind, pinning my arms to my body and ending my efforts at self-defense.

They wrapped a scarf around my face, leaving a slit for oxygen to pass through, but my eyes were covered and my hearing muffled. My hands were roughly fastened behind my back with some rope, which coarse texture I could feel chafing against my wrists. Firm hands anchored my elbows in order to half-propel, half-drag me along. The pace was fairly swift for someone who could not see, and I constantly felt myself tripping and catching my feet on the cobblestones. Only the strong arms hauling me along kept me from landing face-first in the road.

So far, my captors had not spoken a word.


	2. Chapter 2

I saved my breath for when we should stop, as the pace was brisk and I deemed any attempts at conversation would be fruitless. Besides, the scarf that covered my face was none too fresh, and I fought not to gag from the odor of onions and unwashed skin. When at last we stopped, I was half-nauseous, panting, and thirsty. I was flung down onto the floor of whatever building we had entered, and found myself grateful to lean back against the wall.

Those same rough hands unwound the malodorous fabric from my face, and I expected to squint once my eyes were uncovered. Instead, the room was quite dim and I could see straightaway. The room itself was mostly empty, with only a rough-made table and pair of chairs present. A lamp, set to emit only a little light, sat on the table, illuminating just the immediate area in a sickly yellow light.

Two men stood in front of me, both fairly tall, certainly over six foot, with muscular builds. One had thick hair of a fiery ginger color and a narrow, foxy face. The other had very dark skin, so dark I knew he must be an African, with close-napped hair and full lips. Both were dressed in dark, simple clothing, such as was suitable for a laborer.

I had no idea who they were.

"Who are you?" I queried immediately. "Why am I here? What do you want with me?"

Foxy slapped me, but I could tell that he held back from truly hurting me. I must have some value then, I surmised.

"Shut up! No need for you to talk. Nothing you need to know," Foxy rasped at me. He turned to the African and asked, "When's they comin', Walker? How long's we got to wait?" His face showed impatience, as did his hand drumming against his thigh.

Walker scoffed and sat down on one of the rude chairs. "They'll come when they come. They don't care about makin' the likes of us wait. 'Sides, Pellegrino, whenever they get here, we'll get paid." His voice was deep and patient--this was a man who was used to waiting.

Pellegrino nodded in agreement at that and sat in the other chair. Walker took a deck of grimy cards out of his pocket, and the two men began to play cards, completely ignoring me.

"Who's coming? Why did they want me brought here?" I asked. The thought of someone coming here for me made me quite nervous.

Pellegrino paused in the card game and looked over at me. "You took sumthin' that belonged to them. They want it back." He snickered and spat, not hitting me, but very nearly.

Walker laughed as well. "Yeah, Princess ain't happy you took her toy." He winked at Pellegrino, who snickered.

"Well, if'n I liked dick, I'd be pissed too. I'll betcha that Pada-fellow's hung like a horse, man his size." He spit again, fortunately away from me this time.

"Fuck you, you take dick like a regular whore," said Walker scornfully. "Don' you try to fool me none. I seen Sheppard stick it to you more'n once."

Pellegrino's face flushed unattractively. "Fuck _you_ , you dolt. Sheppard takes care of his people, anyway. What's Princess done for you lately?"

Walker smiled slyly. "She done let me under those frilly skirts, that's what she done. Wanted to see if'n the stories about big black dicks was true." He leaned forward and said on a confidential tone, "Just in case you's wondering--they is!" He sat back and roared with laughter.

I was horrified by this dialogue, but I was grateful that they were so busy with each other that they were ignoring me. I could feel bruises starting to set in at my elbows and where they had struck me, but if they left me alone now, I would not complain. Worse at the moment was the chill seeping up my body from sitting on the cold floor, and the thirst that was ravaging my throat.

Pellegrino evidently was intrigued by Walker's claims as to his prodigious penis, and the two men got up from the table and unfastened their pants to compare. Having no wish to see anyone else's prick if I was not about to be intimate with it by choice, I averted my eyes. Strange noises drew my attention back, however, and I saw that size comparison had given way to mutual hand-jobs. Apparently measuring against each other in their soft state didn't count, so they were now jacking each other into full stiffness.

Pellegrino was not poorly endowed, but I did have to agree that Walker was quite sizable indeed. Of course, I had had Jared, who was bigger than either of them.

That thought gave me a tiny smile.

Both men were sporting full erections now, and they were breathing heavily as they kept stroking each other, their faces slack with lust. I could see droplets of moisture falling to the floor as they began to leak. They started rutting against each other, rubbing their cocks together with short jerks of their hips, grabbing each other's asses for leverage.

"Turn around!" Walker commanded. "Gonna fuck you now!"

Pellegrino protested and tried to pull away, but Walker casually smacked a heavy hand across his face, whipping his head to the side and silencing his protest. Walker spun Pellegrino against the wall face-first and pulled his pants down to mid-thigh, wedging his knee in order to spread Pellegrino's thighs as much as possible. He leaned down and spat a couple of times on Pellegrino's hole, then on his own hand, spreading it around his weighty prick with a few strokes.

Walker spanked Pellegrino's ass hard a few times, turning the pale flesh a ruddy pink, before pulling his cheeks apart with one hand and guiding his prick in with the other. He shoved it in, and Pellegrino began to whine and whimper. Walker ignored his noises and kept pushing, vigorously pumping into his bouncing ass. Pellegrino was crying out now, but Walker clamped an arm around his chest and set a hand on his hip, essentially locking the man down. Walker fucked him powerfully, using a force that I could easily discern from seeing his ass bunch up, and his thighs flex. The slapping sound of moist flesh against flesh was obscenely loud in that empty room, and it pounded into my ears even as I strove not to hear.

I wanted to look away, but was hypnotized by the animalistic fucking in front of me. I was fully aware that they could turn on me at any moment, that I might be the next victim, possibly of them both. I had no desire to have either man force himself on me, but was utterly helpless to prevent that from happening.

Walker was panting now, his breathing harsh as he kept fucking Pellegrino. I saw sweat trickling down his back and thighs, and his balls thwacked smartly as he slammed against Pellegrino. I couldn't see Pellegrino behind Walker's body, but his cries now sounded more like the moans and groans of sexual gratification than of protest. Evidently Walker's big prick was overriding his initial resistance. Both men huffed and cursed, making me think they were nearing their climax.

My fear was what would happen to me once they were finished.

Finish they did in just a half-dozen more thrusts, with Walker's ass visibly bunching as he came while still inside Pellegrino, emitting a low, sustained roar. He gave a few more pumps and then withdrew, his prick still half-hard and dripping a thick, milky string of his seed from the tip. He laughed and shook it off, shoving it back into his trousers. Pellegrino turned around and leaned back against the wall, his eyes half-closed and his face flushed. His dick was swollen and deep red; his balls were tight against his body. He fisted his cock roughly, jerking himself hard and fast as he panted and whined.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, gotta come, fuck you, Walker, oh god, wanna come, gotta come, Jesus . . ."

The final prayer to our savior must have done the trick, for his dick surged in his fist and shot an arc of white fluid onto the floor, followed by several lesser drips and spurts. He groaned one last time, long and slow, as he squeezed it a couple of times and then sank to the floor, his deflated dick still exposed.

Walker laughed again and sat on a chair. He looked very satisfied and smug as he fastened his trousers and shook himself a little.

Then his eyes fell on me, and his smile widened ominously.

"You just wait a few minutes, and I'll give you a taste of the big black prick too. You are too pretty by half--I wanna get you all dirty, get my come all over that face. Maybe I'll just fuck that mouth instead of your hole. Yeah, that's it--I'm gonna fuck that sweet mouth, those big lips--it's gonna feel real good." He chuckled darkly and winked at me. I thought I might vomit then and there.

Pellegrino was still collapsed on the floor next to his little white puddle when the door was flung open, cracking against the wall. Several people piled into the room with bright lanterns, and between the noise and the light I found myself cringing.

The first person I recognized was Jared.

His hands were restrained like mine, but he was not blindfolded. His mouth was set in a line on either side of a rag tied as a gag, and his eyes were angry slits in the tense planes of his face. His clothing was dirty, and he had neither hat nor cloak.

Behind him was a short man, older and quite stocky, with a receding hairline. He had beady eyes and a sly look, and he wore a dark coat and breeches of very fine fabric. By his side was a younger, taller man in laborer's clothing, with long blonde hair gathered in the back and a large cross around his neck. He was apparently in charge of herding Jared, judging by the way his hands gripped Jared's arm and neck.

They were all in the room when an imperious voice rang out, demanding to know where Jared was. Everyone drew back along the walls and, in a froth of skirts and petticoats, Genevieve Cortese walked into the room.

She looked exquisite in lavender silk trimmed in black, including a fashionable bit of frippery that served as a hat on her lustrous hair. Her face was a porcelain oval against which that red mouth and those dark eyes stood out boldly. Everything about her was dramatic and lovely . . . except her expression. It was hateful and ugly, and it made me afraid. This was not the spoiled young lady from court--this was a ruthless woman who was capable of anything.

"You!" She looked straight at me. "You're the one who took my Jared. _My_ Jared! He was mine, until you got in the way! It's all your fault we're apart, and now _you've_ married him?" She shook her head almost regretfully. "Well, I can't allow that now, can I?"

Walker had risen upon her entrance, and she turned to him next.

"Well?"

"No one saw us, your ladyship. We got him right off the street, weren't no one around. Me and Pellegrino, we wrapped up his face and brought him straight here. We ain't hardly touched him."

She moved closer to me and I saw her eyes move over my person.

"That's not quite true, unless Mr. Ackles' face ran into a post somewhere. And where is Pellegrino anyway?"

Walker coughed and looked in the corner. Pellegrino was still slumped on the floor--he looked asleep. His limp prick was still dangling outside his pants.

Genevieve exclaimed in disgust.

"What on earth is this? What happened here? Wake him up, Walker, this is ridiculous! With his poor excuse for a manhood hanging out? Is he an animal? Is this what you two do when I set you to guard someone? Fondle yourselves and then fall asleep? What is that . . . oh my God, is that his . . .?" She waved in the direction of the puddle with utter distaste on her face. "This is disgusting! Walker, wake him up this instant!"

Walker jumped over to Pellegrino and began slapping him and yelling his name. Pellegrino came to with a shout, then scrambled to his feet when he saw Genevieve.

"Beg pardon, your ladyship, just a little tired--Walker was watching the prisoner --" he stammered.

"Shut up! And for god's sake, put yourself together! I have no wish to see your ridiculous scrap of a prick!"

He looked down and blushed bright red, stuffing himself into his trousers and looking daggers at Walker.

"Enough of this nonsense." The male voice belonged to the stocky man with the beady, sly eyes. He stepped forward to face Jared. "You, sir, have injured my Princess. You have betrayed her. People don't _betray_ the Corteses and remain . . . healthy." He suddenly punched Jared hard in the stomach. Jared grunted loudly as he doubled over; it was only Long Hair's grip on him that kept him upright. "Thank you, Kubrick," Beady Eyes said in a silky voice. "We can't have the prize bull rolling all over the floor, can we?" He threw a hook punch that spun Jared sideways--again it was Kubrick who held him up.

As Jared straightened up, he looked at Beady Eyes with a murderous expression.

Beady Eyes turned to me, kicking my feet apart to stand between them. "And you, boyo, you took Princess's husband-to-be away from her." He tsk-ed as he shook a finger at me like a parent scolding a child, then looked me over carefully. "I bet you think you're very clever, eh? Snatching away Princess's toy like that? You're pretty, too . . . prettier than a man oughta be. You like cocks over cunts, do you, Ackles? I guess we all know the answer to that one!" He snickered nastily before swinging his leg back and kicking me between the legs.

I heard myself scream before I passed out.

I was only out a few minutes, judging by the volume of the pain in my balls when I came to. I couldn't help whimpering and drawing my knees up. My cheeks were wet, and I knew it had to be the uncontrollable tears in reaction to that vicious kick. Everything around me was a hazy blur, with only the pain in bright focus.

Beady Eyes and Genevieve were arguing. Beady Eyes wanted to hurt Jared and kill me. Genevieve wanted Jared punished but intact, and didn't care what happened to me as long as I was well-beaten first. The three louts were hanging back in a corner, stolidly waiting for a decision from their betters as to a course of action.

Jared was sitting on the floor next to me. My eyes traveled up his long legs and torso to finally look him in the face. He was looking at me, his expression mostly impassive, but I was surprised to see concern in his eyes. He gave a tiny smile when he saw I was conscious.

"Jensen, are you alright?" he whispered urgently. Only my proximity to him allowed me to hear his faint speech--I was sure the arguing Corteses could not have overheard him. 

I nodded with the littlest movement possible. "While that's not the word I might use right now, I am aware again, and the pain--while intense--is becoming somewhat more bearable every moment."

Genevieve's shrill voice drew our attention. 

"Uncle Mark, I appreciate your assistance as always, but I must insist that I remove Jared back to my house _tonight_. I will punish him there, but I will _not_ go without him another night, do you understand?" She stamped her foot in petulant anger. "He is mine, and I have waited too long already to have him as such! You can take care of that --" and she pointed at me "-- as long as you make him rue his thievery first, and then we will see about setting this false marriage aside. If, that is, Jared does not suddenly become a widower. I wish to be a bride as soon as possible!"

Genevieve came over to us then and knelt next to Jared, placing one lace-mitted hand on his grimy face. She looked at him and cooed, "Soon we'll be wed, darling. Uncle Mark will clean up this little mess of yours, and then you'll finally be one of us." She leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

In a flash of motion, Jared was standing with Genevieve held in front of him, one of his muscular arms pinning her against his front as the other hand brandished a dagger at her throat.

"Stand back! I'll slit her throat!" The fury on his face supported his intent.

Genevieve was alternately crying and screaming invectives at her uncle and the men to rescue her. Jared shook her like a terrier shakes a rat and she quieted down, breathing heavily and sniffling.

"You rogue, how do you have my dagger?" she panted. "Only a knave would use a woman's own weapon against her!"

Jared snorted. "Only a bitch would need to have such a weapon on her person! I slipped it from the sheath on your calf when you bent down to ogle me. It slid out as if it was glad to leave you!"

He turned to address the men, keeping Genevieve in a tight hold.

"Listen up, Sheppard. You are going to remove your gun from your person and kick it over to me. Then you will lie face down with your arms and legs spread wide. You," he indicated Pellegrino here, "untie Mr. Ackles' hands and feet. Use that rope to tie those two cretins together, anchored to that post. Do you understand?"

Mark Sheppard! How had I not recognized him? He was a Cortese by marriage, very highly placed in their organization, and with a reputation for being cold-blooded and utterly ruthless. He'd made plenty of appearances at the courthouse, both as a defendant himself and to support other family members under accusation. Apparently he had a healthy respect for the threat that Jared posed, for he laid his gun carefully on the floor and gave it a good nudge, the handle facing towards us.

Pellegrino nodded and slowly came toward me, kneeling to undo first my feet, then my hands as I turned my back to allow him access. My feet and hands tingled as my bonds were removed, and I rubbed them briskly as Pellegrino took the ropes over to Walker and Kubrick, tying them as Jared had instructed.

"Now, now, there's no need for hasty actions that we'll regret," Sheppard said in a overly-sweet voice as he lay spreadeagled on the floor. "We can work this little disagreement out to everyone's satisfaction."

Jared scoffed. "Yes, with Jensen dead, and me married to this bloodthirsty harridan! That is unacceptable on both counts!"

Genevieve snarled quietly, and Jared gave her a shake again. Then he thrust her towards me, waiting until I had a good grip on her before handing me the dagger. I kept it pointed at her throat, as her midsection was well-protected by the boning in her stays.

Jared picked up the gun and pointed it at Sheppard.

"Who's first, Mark? You? Or your minions?" He turned the pistol to the men tied together. Kubrick closed his eyes and prayed fervently, while Walker simply glared ferociously at Jared. I shuddered at his intensity. Pellegrino had crawled into a corner after freeing me and huddled there still as he tried to become invisible.

Jared swung the pistol back to Mark and clicked the hammer. We all jumped, but realized no bullet had been shot.

Mark gibbered in fear, and a dark line of liquid trailed out from underneath his body. 

Jared flicked his eyes to me and then back to his captives. His next words were addressed to me, and couched in a surprisingly mild tone.

"Jensen, are you willing to abide by my actions? I know I have given you no reason to trust me, but if you are willing to follow my lead, I can deal with this lot."

I was stunned by the reasonable manner in which these words were said. Where was the scorn, the disdain? And, really--what choice did I have?

"Yes, yes, of course. I have no idea--whatever you think, Jared. Can we just . . . just please get out of here?" If my voice quavered a little, it was simply due to the cold and fatigue I was experiencing, and my shock at the events of the night. Abduction was a new and unpleasant experience for me.

Jared nodded. He looked at me with what I could only interpret as affection, then bent and kissed my lips softly. I could not help but gape a little in complete surprise.

"We have much to discuss, Jen, but it has to wait. This ugly business must be cleaned up first."

He picked up the ropes left from his own bondage, still lying on the floor where he'd managed to free himself, and gestured for Pellegrino to come over again. He did so reluctantly, and Jared had him sit next to Sheppard, telling Mark that he could sit up now. He tied the two of them together, being careful to avoid Sheppard's trail of piss.

"You won't be beaten or killed, though the thought of doing just that threatens to overwhelm me. Nevertheless, I will refrain from those actions--for now. Know that if you ever harm me or mine again--and I most assuredly do mean Mr. Ackles by that--I will renege on this claim and seek you out, and you will never be whole or see the light of day again. Do not doubt my word on this!"

He stood and motioned me over. I kept my grip on both Genevieve and the dagger as we moved towards the door.

"You vermin will wait here for the police--they will arrive forthwith." With that, he whisked the three of us outside the house. Shutting the door, he took another piece of rope that he had hung onto and tied the doorknob to a hitching ring embedded in the exterior wall. 

"There! That should hold them a bit, even if they manage to get free of their individual bonds! And we shall notify the police directly to come pick them up. I imagine, Jensen, that your role as an officer of the court will help ensure they receive a resounding punishment and lengthy sentence!"

He brushed his hands together and turned to Genevieve and me.

"And now, missy, what is to be done with you?"

She spat at him and tried to kick him. I wrenched her back and would have spanked her in rebuke if her skirts would not have muffled the blow. I settled for her holding her very tightly and putting my hand over her mouth. She growled in a very unladylike manner, but subsequently stilled herself.

Jared looked at her, tapping his hand against his mouth. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. I myself had no idea what to do with her, and simply waited quietly for him to suggest our next move.

"Well, the problem is this, Jensen," Jared said. "We need to punish this viper ourselves somehow, because with her social standing and money, she is sure to evade the law. Yet killing her, or even seriously injuring her, is more than I care to do to a woman, no matter how vicious she may be. On top of that, we want her to leave us alone forever, both you and I. Now, we could politely ask her to do so, couldn't we, _Lady_ Cortese? And what would you say?" He nodded at me to free her mouth.

" _Never!_ You have insulted both me _and_ my family! You deserve anything we might choose to do to you! I will have you tied to my bed to service me as I please, and never be allowed out in society again! And _him?_ He will die for interfering with my plans and taking what belonged to me!" The latter statement was made with a savage glare at me. I waved the dagger in front of her face and she quieted down, albeit unwillingly.

I waited, and still Jared was silent. I was ready to drop from fatigue, yet felt unnaturally tense and jumpy from the action-packed night. Unfortunately, Jared spoke the truth, when he said that we must do something to end this once and for all. We could not come so far and not finish.

He snapped his fingers suddenly, making both Genevieve and me start.

"I have an idea! Come, we must go to the Gardens! Quickly now!"

He scooped up Genevieve--indeed, her petite form against his massive one was like a Yorkshire terrier compared to a Great Dane--and took off briskly. I followed with as great a pace as I could manage.

"Stay strong!" he called over his shoulder. "I know you must be exhausted, but we are almost done. The Gardens are just a couple more blocks away. Then we can end this and be at peace!"

The Gardens was a large park, set almost in the middle of town. Smooth green lawns were broken up by colorful flower gardens and various structures such as pretty gazebos, graceful benches, and some small fountains and ponds. It was a favored activity in lovely weather to stroll there, enjoying the scenery and being seen. Sometimes there would be small concerts or tableaux performed for the people's enjoyment.

In the center of The Gardens was a fountain referred to as Nymphs' Fountain. It was quite large and was composed of a huge circular basin and a beautiful piece of statuary. Three naked nymphs stood together on one side of the basin in various poses, holding urns and pitchers from which water ran into the fountain's pool. Their graceful beauty and the varied pitches of the water streams were very pleasing to the senses. Altogether, the fountain was an area of great pride and enjoyment to the entire town.

We entered the grounds of The Gardens and slowed our pace as we approached Nymphs' Fountain. I could not fathom what on earth we were doing there, but Jared did not take long to disclose his plan.

He put Genevieve down, keeping one large paw on her arm, and commanded her, "Undress, down to your underpinnings."

She stared at him and exclaimed, "I will not! What on earth are you talking about, you knave?!" She began to swat him with her free hand.

He casually caught her flailing hand and pinned it with the other one, leaving her without any means to resist. I could not help a tiny snicker at her discomfiture. She heard it, and glared at me.

"Now, now," said Jared. "You may remove your fine clothing yourself and wear it another day, or I will cut it all off of you with your own dagger. Your choice, madam."

She ground her teeth in fury, but accepted the inevitable and began to undo her clothing. There were some fastenings that she could not reach herself, and Jared assisted her in a very gentlemanly way. I was completely impressed with his aplomb during this process.

Finally, her pretty dress and accoutrements were piled to one side of the fountain, and Genevieve stood there shivering a little in her underclothes. Her chemise was of the finest cotton, almost sheer--the faint, rosy circles of her nipples were just discernible beneath it, especially as they reacted to the chill night air. One petticoat remained, with the rest piled on the grass. It too was that fine material, but had several small ruffles running around her hips and legs.

"Hold still," said Jared, and set to work with the dagger. He left the shoulders and upper portion of her chemise on, but cut the rest of it off just below the midline of her breasts. The waistband of the petticoat was removed, causing it to sit quite low on her hips now, and then the length of it from just above her loins was also removed with that sharp blade. I couldn't help noting that her skin was smooth and lovely all over. What a shame it wrapped someone so unpleasant.

Jared jumped up to one side of the nymph statue, then reached down for Genevieve's hand. "Come on now, I know you can climb this!" he chided her, pulling her up to the tiny ledge around the figures comprising the statue. He pushed her back into a slight angle between two of the nymphs--she was unhidden, but the forms of the nymphs braced her body and gave her support. She clung to the stonework to keep her balance. Jared took one of her discarded petticoats and tore it into long strips. Taking one strip at a time, he bound her to the statue, inserting the cloth between crevices and openings in the stonework and binding her form securely. All the while, a small smile played about his lips.

When he deemed her sufficiently restrained, he jumped down from the fountain and surveyed his work. Genevieve was spitting mad, but she was securely fastened at the wrist, the ribcage, the thigh, and the ankle. Her limbs were splayed for maximum visibility, and the remaining scraps of her underclothing did little to conceal much of her person. The very underswell of her breasts was visible below the scrap of chemise that remained across her chest and ostensibly hid her nipples. The waistband of her petticoat hung low on her small hips, displaying the entire expanse of her torso and a dark patch of her pubic hair, while still concealing her privates. The length of her shapely legs was likewise exposed. Basically, she was filleted like a fish with only the barest concession to modest concealment.

"What are you doing, you bastard?" she screeched, her voice cutting through the night. "Get me down this instant! This is intolerable! Oh, you hooligan, you will be _tortured_ for this!" She wrestled with her bonds, but Jared knew what he was doing when he tied her, and she could not budge. Judging by her face, she also realized how tenuous her remaining scraps of clothing were, and if she was to move too much, they would fall off and leave her completely naked.

"Jared!" I stage-whispered. "What _are_ you doing? What is all this about?" If I favored women, I might find this a titillating sight, for Genevieve was a very attractive woman--a petite frame with round, pert breasts, a slim waist swelling to soft belly and curvy hips, supple thighs, dainty calves. Her hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back in lush, dark curls. The scraps of cloth on her body almost highlighted what was hidden, rather than truly concealing anything.

But not only did I not favor women, I knew what lay inside that pretty, sexy package, and it could never be attractive to me. And, apparently, not to Jared either.

"This should do it," he said, jumping off the fountain and looking back at his own piece of art. "She is physically unharmed--the time she spends here will not leave any physical trace except fatigue and a bit of a chill from waiting for the morning. However, this little . . . display of her body will finish her socially. No one in society will want anything to do with her. She will be cut from every party list, every charity ball, every aristocratic dinner. No one will ride with her, dine with her, or consider her eligible in any way, after her charms have been revealed like this. Men will still want to fuck her, but they'll regard her as common as any inn-keeper's wench." He laughed coldly. "She will be finished in this town. If she remains, her claws will be drawn. If it were me, Genevieve, I would depart to the Continent and live the rest of my dissolute life there. What will you choose?"

She grimaced but stayed still, unwilling to lose the last of her clothing. "I hate you, you foul miscreant! _Hate_ you! I wish I'd never set eyes on you in the first place, never been tempted by you, by your utterly ridiculous looks and body! Take me down from here, I say! Take me _down!_ "

"NO!" he roared unexpectedly, his voice deep and furious. "You were going go _kill_ him!" He gestured to me with one sweep of his arm. "Not deter him, not scare him off, but _kill_ him! Just because he has what you never could possess - my heart! He has never harmed you, never touched you, yet he was going to die, simply because you suspected I might love him! I am sparing your life here, I'm giving you a chance for change and redemption, when you would have _ended_ us! Once you are freed, you should get on your fucking _knees_ and thank God for my mercy! God certainly knows that _you_ showed none!"

He panted as he finished his tirade, and I could see his anger slowly releasing its grip on him as he gradually relaxed. He shook himself and resettled his coat, taking a few deep breaths as he brushed himself off.

He turned to me and asked me quite calmly, "Jensen, are you ready to go home?"

I looked at him in surprise. His eyes were fixed on me, his face only showed concern. I nodded, then cleared my throat, raised my chin, and said, "Yes, that would be good. I am rather tired from all of this mayhem. A bath would be very much appreciated too."

He nodded back and smiled briefly, motioning for me to move, and we turned to exit The Gardens. Genevieve began screeching behind us, but we ignored her and continued on our way, leaving the park and heading toward Jared's house. Her shrieking faded until we could hear it no more.

"Don't worry, she will be unharmed. The morning patrol will be along within the next hour. She'll be a bit chilly, but otherwise fine. She won't even be seen by more than a handful of people really, as the patrol will cut her down before any crowd is around, but the _story_ of it will spread, and she'll be social anathema here. She will leave town, and leave us alone."

We walked slowly, but finally made it back to Jared's house. My muscles were screaming from my earlier bondage, I was exceedingly thirsty, and even a little hungry. At the same time, I was completely drained and could barely keep my eyes open.

I stumbled as my co-ordination mis-fired, and Jared caught me with one strong arm. I thrilled at his touch like a silly miss about to make her debut, and shook my head at myself.

"I just wanted to help you," Jared said softly, apparently thinking the shake of my head was meant for him. "I won't, if you'd rather I didn't, but I know you are sore and tired, so . . . could I help you, please?"

I opened my drooping eyelids, and there was his face, that handsome, unique face. I had only seen it be cruel or cold for the last few months. Now, though, it was soft and open, and his eyes were filled with . . . affection? Was that really consideration and kindness I saw on those strong features? What did this mean? I was too tired to figure it out.

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind, I would greatly appreciate your help. I seem to be . . . at odds with myself." I gave a little scoff. "It's been . . . a rather strange night." I fought back a semi-hysterical giggle.

_Including your own words at the end, Jared. Did you think I didn't hear you? What did you mean about me having your heart . . . and that you love me? Or did I just hallucinate that part, being under such strain?_

He assisted me up the stairs and into his own bedroom. It was a huge room, with a copper hip bath set up in one corner. He rang for Chad, his manservant; a skinny man with a smart mouth and shock of blonde hair, but extremely capable, which is why I surmised Jared kept him on. Sure enough, he arrived in a few moments, not looking like Jared had roused him from his slumber in the least. Jared ordered him to fill the bath as soon as possible, and to fetch clean night-clothing for me from my own room. Chad looked at me and must have decided I was truly in need as he refrained from any snide comments and simply disappeared to fill Jared's orders.

"He'll be quick, the fires will take but a moment to revive, and then the water to heat up. Here, let's remove your clothing--you can wear my robe until you are in the bath." As rough as he had been removing Genevieve's clothing earlier, his hands were that tender unfastening mine; peeling away my dirty jacket, shirt, and breeches and setting them all aside. I did not even blink at being naked before him; yes, he had seen me nude before, but the emphasis tonight was on comfort, and the care in his touch was palpable. He wrapped me in his heavy, soft robe, and I felt warm and cared for as it swaddled me.

He poured water from a carafe into a mug and gave it to me--oh, the cool sweetness of it as it ran down my raspy throat! He smoothed my hair with his hand, looking at me with what I could only interpret as tenderness.

"My dear Jensen, I am so, so sorry you were enmeshed in this . . . this insanity. It is only because of me that Genevieve came after you. I should have seen it coming, should have anticipated her backlash, but I just never thought she would attack you." He kept petting my hair as I sipped the water. "I cannot ask you to forgive me, when I was so horribly short-sighted."

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

_Surely I must be dreaming. I must already be asleep, and I'll awaken in the morning, and things will be as they have been._

Chad re-entered the room with two large pails of steaming water. He poured them into the copper bath, then ran out and returned with one more pail of steaming water and one of cool, to balance the hot and prevent scalding. He also fetched a couple of large, thick towels and a washcloth. There was already a dish of fine, white soap in place.

"Will that be all, sir?" he asked, his curiosity evident in his bright blue eyes, although he refrained from asking further.

"No. I need a message sent to the police. They need to collect some trash in a run-down house at the end of Richardson Lane. We were set upon by criminals, and they are tied up and waiting for proper disposal. We will be pressing charges first thing."

I stepped to the tub, dropping the robe onto the rug, not caring about Chad's presence. Jared took my hand and steadied me as I entered the bath and sank down into the still gently steaming hot water. My entire body rejoiced at that delicious sensation, the chill I'd harbored for hours finally being chased away as I soaked. I leaned back and marveled that I fit--often, baths were slightly too small for my over six foot frame. Jared smiled down at me and said, "I had it made especially for me. If it can accommodate my height, you are all set."

He turned back to Chad, sternness back on his face. "And the morning patrol should be alerted to check at Nymphs' Fountain. The three nymphs acquired a fourth overnight that will need some assistance. She will want to make charges against us, but we will be charging her with attempted murder first, so let the police captain know that as well. We will be available by early afternoon should he need to come speak with us."

Chad's eyes were as round as dinner plates by now, but he managed to keep his mouth shut, picking up all of my dirty clothing and disappearing to fill his orders.

Jared took off his jacket and shirt now, only leaving his breeches on. He knelt by the tub and took the cloth square, soaping it thoroughly and then running the cloth over my shoulders. He washed me all over, soaping away the dirt, sweat, and grime of the last few hours. His hands were gentle but thorough as they slid over every inch of my body, taking extra care with my various bruises and contusions. As the cloth rubbed over my prick, around my balls and even between the cheeks of my ass, my manhood twitched add began to fill. He smiled at me, saying softly, "Oh, Jen . . . I wouldn't have thought you'd react to me any more, but I love that you do. Let's finishing getting you clean, though, and perhaps a bite to eat."

I stood up and he poured clean water over me, sluicing the soap and dirt off. He wrapped me in a large towel and rubbed me briskly, then guided me to the bed and turned the linens down. I made no demur, but simply climbed right in. The bed was incredibly soft, and the sheets felt cool and fresh against my clean skin. 

"Food, Jen?" Jared asked. I shook my head no. I had been hungry earlier, but I only craved rest right now.

"Here, a glass of milk then, just to hold you over." He offered me a glass, and this I accepted. I drank it all, the hearty liquid coating my stomach most satisfactorily.

As I drank, Jared removed his breeches, moving naked around the room. He came to the other side of the bed and climbed in as well. I wasn't sure what his goal was, but I'd been enjoying this kinder Jared so far, so I just relaxed onto my pillow and closed my eyes.

His body pressed up behind mine, and the heat of it was intoxicating. From the nape of my neck down to my toes, I could feel the firm, muscular lines of his body against mine. My cock, already half-hard from the bath, began to plump anew, even as I chided myself. Jared's arm came over me, pressing me even closer, and I gave up fighting.

"Jensen," he whispered, and I turned to face him. His face was a bare two inches from mine, and all I saw on it was love. Love shone from his bright eyes, sat upon his soft lips in a half-smile. His hands stroked my body softly, easing me and exciting me all at once. My cock was fully hard now, poking him as we lay so close, and he began to stroke it too, coaxing out those beads of moisture that presaged excitement.

"Jared," I managed to say before I lost myself in the pleasure he was eliciting. "Jared, what is this . . . for months, you have avoided me, chastised me, fled from me. And now, you saved me. You rescued me. You're taking care of me. You . . . dear Lord, your hands . . . you're making love to me. I don't . . . oh God, don't stop . . . I don't understand."

His hands slowed as they glided around my body, but their warmth never lifted from me, those long fingers trailing over my skin, leaving tiny shivers in their wake. One hand took mine and guided it to wrap around his prick, every bit as hard and swollen as my own. I ran a thumb over the velvet-soft tip and moaned as it came away wet. Keeping my gaze on his, I brought my thumb to my mouth and sucked, letting him see my tongue as it delicately lapped at his own wetness. His taste exploded in my mouth--salty, strong, _Jared_.

His eyes darkened as he watched my mouth, his pupils expanding with lust. He grabbed my hips, digging his fingers in, and pulled me roughly to him, grinding our cocks together with his hips. I gasped with the pleasure of feeling him so hard against me, of him holding me so possessively; all sensations I had thought never to experience again.

"Jared!" I managed to exclaim. "This is incredible--God knows _you_ feel incredible! But why . . . why now? These last months, the tension, what . . . uhhhh, Jesus . . . what did it mean? And why . . . your prick, oh yes . . . so damn hard, Jay, so good . . . oh, fuck . . . oh! . . . Ja-Jared, why did you leave after our night together?" I put a hand on his chest, which was still the most magnificent specimen I'd ever seen--pectorals I imagined a god would desire, fanning out big and firm, dark hair running down his sternum and across those small, hard nipples that were begging for my mouth-- I summoned my will power and held him back. I yearned to kiss him, craved for his mouth to descend on mine, ached to feel that massive member deep inside me, but I had to know what was happening. 

If we made love tonight, despite the fantastic an experience I knew it would be--what then?

I wanted him so badly; wanted his weight on top of me, pinning me down, thrusting inside of me. Wanted him to fuck me hard and thoroughly, his cock burning away all traces of any other men, baptizing me anew with his seed. I wanted to fuck _him_ \--I had never fucked anyone, always preferring to receive, but God, I wanted to sink into him, split that perfect ass, paint him inside and mark him as _mine_.

I just couldn't face that abandonment again. 

He must have seen my feelings on my face, for he put his hands on my cheeks and drew me in for a kiss composed more of sweetness than sex. He leaned his forehead against mine; we shared the same air as he continued to cradle my face.

"I'm sorry," Jared whispered. "I'm so sorry. I was too young, too immature, to handle the feelings you awoke in me that night. I knew it was not a mere casual fuck; the intensity we shared that night remains unrivaled for me to this day. I was unprepared for it, and I fled like a craven coward, a fool of a stripling. I immersed myself in business and in cheap pleasures, and I tried to move past you, forget you."

He sighed then, and I heard regret and pain in that breath.

"Then I met Genevieve. I initially thought her witty and attractive, although I had no true desire for her. She was quickly besotted with me. I didn't object to squiring her around at first, but she became clingy and cloying. I tried to break it off with her . . . and then I found out how powerful and corrupt her family was. They threatened me, to placate their spoiled princess; when the threat palled, they simply kept me on a short leash. The only thing I am proud of is that I never succumbed to her; I never slept with her, as much as she castigated or importuned me."

"One day, they found out about you. They knew of our night, they figured out I had run away, and that gave them a new power over me. As long as I stayed with Genevieve, you were safe."

He kissed my forehead again, pressing his lips firmly against my skin for a long minute. I was not sure if he rued the past threat, or was grateful for our safety now. Perhaps both.

"Finally, she would not hear of anything except that we would at long last be wed, and that she could bed me as her lawful spouse. Thus, she lodged the suit against me. I believe she anticipated forcing my hand, or else that they would succeed in buying off the judge; either way, she would win."

He smiled at me.

"And there you were, Jensen. As gorgeous as ever, so poised, so professional. Of course I had no case--Genevieve had made sure of it. She held all the cards. And yet you fought for me, not having any idea what was truly at stake. She was incensed that you were my lawyer, but I cared not what hurts and indignities she hurled at me, as long as you were safe."

My head was spinning a bit, between my fatigue, the joy at lying here with Jared, and the tale he was telling me. Our erections had flagged as we talked, but the simple pleasure of being in his arms, feeling his body next to me, was enough to ease my heart and make me happy.

I had to ask him, "What of these weeks since our marriage? Your house has been a cold and lonely place, Jared."

He was silent for a minute, and then I felt a fine tremor shake his body. I looked at him in concern and saw his face set, his mouth in a hard line, and a tear slipping from one tightly closed eye.

"I was afraid."

He opened his eyes, and I saw them sparkle with the tears he refused to shed. He drew in a shaky breath and continued.

"My fear was two-fold. The Cortese family was enraged that I had left Genevieve like that. Threats against both of us were multiplying, and I had no idea how to stop them. I let everyone think that our marriage was a fake, thereby keeping the focus on me and away from you."

I nodded. "I can understand that. But what was the other issue?"

He stroked my cheek, then slid a finger beneath my chin and lifted my face. His lips were warm and just the right mix of soft and firm, and then he ran the tip of his tongue across my bottom lip. I caught my breath with the loving, sensual sensation.

"I love you, Jen. I fell in love with you that incredible night, and I never stopped. I ran from it, I hid from it, I tried to break it, all to no avail. With the threats already around us, I would have run from you. Adding my own fears of love, of being with someone like that, of being with you in the way I knew we would be--I thought to distance myself, keep you at arm's length. Keep myself safe and intact."

He snorted.

"I guess we can see how well that worked."

He suddenly rolled us so that he was on top of me, looking down into my eyes, the considerable weight of his body pressing me into the mattress. Feeling his weight on my body was deeply satisfying--I felt reassured, grounded. It made me want more.

"I've been stupid. I've hurt you. I've disrespected you and injured you in ways of which I never dreamed I was capable. You have no reason to trust me. I left you alone for so long--oh, yes, I know you were alone--and even when you thought we might have a chance at being together, I turned away yet again."

I felt a drop fall on my face--one of his tears had broken free. I reached up and wiped my thumb across one eye, then the other, shaking free the droplets it collected.

"I apologize for the past, Jensen--all of it. If you were still to find it within you, I would ask for the chance I squandered so long ago. Would you be able to consider making a life with me, after all that has been said and done? Would you give me a chance to prove my devotion, pledge my fidelity, and do everything within my power to make you a happy man?"

I knew the next step would be to weigh all of this carefully. To delve more into Jared's thoughts over the last few years; maybe to give him some measurable goals and time frames to help prove his good intent. The last thing I should do is simply accept all he had said; as honest and beautiful as much of it was, our history was long and complex, and we needed to parse this all out.

Fuck being careful. I'd waited a long, lonely time for a chance like this, and I was taking it.

"Yes, Jared. Yes. There's going to be a lot more talking about this, and I want us to see about ending the Corteses in this town, but yes--I want to be with you. I _choose_ to be with you!"

The smile on his face rivaled the radiance of the sun rising, and he began dropping little kisses all over my face as I laughed joyfully. Then our lips met, opened, and locked together, hot, and wet and more than a little desperate. We tried to tell each other all of our pent-up feelings with our mouths but without words. Our cocks surged back into proud stiffness as he started to rock against me, a languorous motion that quickly picked up speed and force, until we were soon rutting urgently, pushing our hips together, my thighs cradling his, our delicious friction lubricated by the copious fluid leaking from our swollen pricks.

I had wanted him inside me, but our bodies were too long deprived, too hungry, and it was clear we would not last that long. Jared gasped, "Another time--this is but our first. I can't wait . . . Jensen! God, I . . . oh, you're so amazing . . . I'm sorry, dear heart, I can't help . . . can't wait, going to . . . Jesus fuck, now . . . _now,_ Jen . . . _FUCK!_ " 

With that cry, he climaxed, seizing me so tightly I could barely breathe. I could feel his manhood's strong pulses alongside my own cock, his seed spurting hotly across my belly. The power and heat of him took my breath away, tipping me over that exquisite edge into my own breaking wave of pleasure. I clung to him as if he were a raft and I adrift on an ocean of ecstasy. I cried out again and again as my body slaked itself on his, shuddering as the storm passed through me and left me finally washed up on Jared's shoulder, my breathing gradually slowing, my body wrung out and content to rest alongside that of my lover.

My husband.

I laughed softly. Jared nuzzled my neck and kissed it, asking quietly what it was that was so funny.

"Us," I murmured. "Our trial marriage has ended, and now the true one has begun."

I felt his lips smile against my skin as we drifted off to sleep.


End file.
